Addicted To Pain Book Novels & Stories

I muttered with a hardly discernible voice. "You don't have to apologise," she said softly as she sat down next to where I lay. "I know you're sad and heartbroken and all you want to do is cry and hope the pain will go away but my darling,we both know life doesn't work that way,crying won't help in healing this, it will only make your eyes hurt and give you a really bad headache”, Her hand found mine, her touch light but forceful.

It was everything it could be and everything it shouldn’t be. Every second was pure madness and a frenzy of ecstasy. I lost count of how many times we did it, how many times I orgasmed, and how many times he came inside me. Our bodies were slick with sweat and cum. Even so, we were so high on one another, we couldn’t stop consuming, craving each other even more. I was addicted; not just to the pleasure, but to the pain as well. I wanted him so madly that even the pain he gave felt less painful because ‘he’ gave it to you.

But Xavier's response was a mocking laugh, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "Oh, dear cousin, you've yet to fathom the depths to which I can sink," he taunted, his smirk widening into a sinister grin. I prepared to pull the trigger when, suddenly, a sharp pain pierced my neck, a needle injecting its venomous contents into my bloodstream. The room spun, my vision blurred, and a wave of drowsiness washed over me. "What have you done?" I managed to murmur, my voice growing faint as the drug took hold of my senses.

It was too much and it needed a release. I shook my head and backed away. I grabbed the back of my head trying to close that door in my head but I couldn't... One door closed, another got opened and everything rushed in, every voice, every image, every fucked up memory I tried to hard to suppress..They all surfaced and the only thing I saw behind my closed eyelids was the blood, dripping slowly from my hand. It was a disease. An addiction. It was my own fucked up drug. It was like cancer that ate and fed. The only difference is that this doesn't have a cure. Since childhood, this was my only way to get rid of the pain. Toxic and unhealthy, I know. But it's the only way.

His weight crushed me into memory foam. "Look at you," he murmured against my clavicle. "A hurricane in a champagne flute." "You..." "Pain can be addictive," he whispered in a chilling voice while taunting me with his lips. "When pain becomes overwhelming, people will call it happiness and indulge themselves in it." His mouth traveled south. I became liquid, tectonic plates shifting beneath skin. When his teeth closed over my sacrum, the world dissolved into salt and screaming gulls. In the white noise, I saw it- the beach from childhood dreams. Sand bled through my fingers, each grain a stolen memory. Waves kissed my ankles, whispering in a child's voice: Remember. Remember.

The way my pussy clenched and the deep tingles in my core. God. Who knew pain could feel like that? Every smack had me jolting, but somehow it lit me up inside, like he was flipping switches I didn’t even know I had. My skin buzzed, my thighs shook, heat curled low in my belly. I swear I thought I’d explode right there. Was I supposed to like that? To crave it? Am I addicted to pain? Do I love torture? No. No.

He never missed any of the banquets mostly on behalf of her father, she wanted to see him and mostly talk to him. Looking in the far distance " what time are we leaving? " she asked silently and he placed his other hand under her chin bringing back her lovely face in to his view. There fingers were still intertwined together, she gave him a beautiful smile. Slowly and slowly she was becoming a drug The more closer he got to her the more addicted he was starting to get mostly to the daughter of his number one enemy.

************* Nikolas's POV I tried not to think, but it's not as easy when you have a twisted mind like mine. My brain loved the pain, it's almost like he is addicted to it; because whenever he found a chance, he took it and delved headfirst into all types of torturous thoughts. He twisted the past with the present, always showing me that whichever pain I am facing, deep down, I deserve it.

Naive me was so excited to start something new until he pierced me with a pocket knife just like I have done to him. My scream had echoed loudly in the room in pain, but he never gave me a chance to adjust to the pain as he claimed me that night. After that day, sex became something I never enjoyed. Each sexual moment with him came with more pain. It got to a point my body became addicted to it. If he hadn’t inflicted pain on me, I wouldn’t feel like he was inside me. I had accepted my fate and endured it all till he woke up one morning and decided I didn’t have enough libido to satisfy him.

Definitely don't want to ruin that. "Yeah. My brother had been an addict for three years." "How come?" "He was in pain." "Why didn't he see a doctor." "Not that kind of pain; it was emotional and mental. He was broken." "Why not take antidepressants?" "Antidepressants only numbed the pain. Morphine gave him a boost, and he felt good." "I see." I almost cried as I thought back to seeing Adam in that state. It was hard; All I could do was watch Adam go through that and beg him to stop.